


EPIPHANY

by Anne_Fairchild



Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Angst, Description of past physical and emotional abuse, Emotional Baggage, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Spoilers for Season 4.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 01:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anne_Fairchild/pseuds/Anne_Fairchild
Summary: After Sidney is gone and after Mrs C gives her ultimatum, Leonard has a lot of thinking to do. He’s at a crossroads in his personal life and has important decisions to make. It’s time for him to do what’s right for Leonard, and for Daniel too.





	EPIPHANY

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set after all of the events in season 4. It’s hinted at by the dialogue in season 4 that Leonard and Daniel have experienced some sort of sexual activity, but nothing more. This is my view of their relationship, emotional and physical, both pre and post.

What had he done so far, Leonard wondered, except solve half a problem for no one’s benefit but his own. Everything underlying it all was still there, waiting to rear its ugly head again..

If the Church and emotional ties were less important to him, he might have agreed to try one of the alternative livings Daniel had suggested - teach, write, counsel, or doing something where he and Daniel could live together and share a bed every night, instead of stolen guilty hours here and there. The rational part of him could now see that it was logical and prudent and that it was what they as a couple should have. Daniel deserved to be able to think of them as a couple. Leonard rarely thought of himself as being deserving of much of anything, but he also wanted to be part of a couple, in a loving relationship like everyone else. He was tired of feeling many things - useless, cowardly, invisible, and only half a person.

He’d believed he needed the emotional support of the makeshift vicarage family he’d come to depend on, since he no longer had an actual family. He had long counted his father as lost to him. He also felt useful by serving God, and felt he had a worthy purpose. But in the past couple of weeks his feelings had gotten all mixed up and his beliefs were being challenged. He’d thought long and hard about everything Daniel had said to him when they’d fought. He thought again while waiting for the bus, and he listened to Will too. Trying to make sense of his own thoughts had only made him miserable, so he’d decided it was time to not just listen to others, but to hear them as well.

Sidney’s calling seemed to be such that as long as he could help people or fight for them, he didn’t feel the need to remain a vicar in the Church as his only way of accomplishing that. Sidney’s faith allowed him to challenge the Church’s teachings in his mind and reconcile with God on his own. Leonard felt he lacked that sort of faith, both in the church and in himself. He wasn’t confident enough to do what Sidney had done. The narrow box of Church doctrine still controlled him as much as it controlled Mrs C. 

If they weren’t friends exactly, Geordie had come to respect him and that was no small thing. He wanted to believe Will would be there for him. He didn’t know what he would have done if he’d truly lost Mrs. C _and_ Sidney and had to keep secrets from Will besides. He wasn’t good at keeping secrets or hiding things in general; everyone always knew when he was lying.

Mrs C had broken his heart. She would be back at the vicarage as he’d wanted, but he hadn’t wanted it to be the way it would be. It had been brought home to him that he’d been only a sad second-best to Sidney, even if she’d never seen him and Daniel kissing. Perhaps she’d always only tolerated him. If that wasn’t actually true, he certainly felt as if it was, and it hurt. Since that day he’d tried hard, and she was so unyielding. Was that how Daniel saw him, he wondered, unbending and unkind, grimly dogmatic? If he was, it had been out of fear. Perhaps Mrs C was afraid too.

Will and Sidney both told him he was not an abomination in God’s eyes, but Mrs C clearly felt he and Daniel were just that. Now, when she baked and cooked and tidied, he couldn’t help wondering what she would be thinking when she looked at him - _if_ she looked at him or spoke to him again with the same teasing, grumpy warmth she had before. Everything was spoilt now - Sidney gone, Mrs C someone he hardly knew any more, and his relationship with Daniel perhaps broken beyond repair.

Daniel had been patient with him for so long - longer than he deserved. He’d taken Daniel for granted and used him. He was ashamed of his behaviour, and uncertain whether the damage could be repaired. He knew he’d hurt Daniel. He needed to talk - really talk - to him, with as much honesty as he could pull out of himself. If he couldn’t be honest with anyone else, he had to be honest with Daniel, starting now. One thing he had come to realize was that he truly loved Daniel, and wanted to be with him no matter the consequences.

Daniel hadn’t tried to hurt him, he’d only said things Leonard hadn’t wanted to hear. The anger that welled up in him, the things he’d said in return, were not about Daniel, but about a lifetime of being despised for what he was even before he understood it, and for not having the courage to do anything about it. No guts for anything, his father had said of him. He was desperately unhappy, but so was the man who’d been left to believe that Leonard loved the Church more than he loved him.

He hadn’t contacted Daniel yet. Will had brought him back to the vicarage on the motorbike and Leonard knew that he’d called Daniel to tell him he was all right. What happened next was up to him. For once he was going to have to do the right thing - the brave thing - and not just hope this would all go away. He picked up the phone, hand shaking slightly, and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Daniel.” His voice was raspy, unsure.

“Leonard! How are you?”

“Not very well, honestly, but that’s my own fault. We need to talk. That is, I need to talk to you. Do you want to talk to me? I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

“Of course I do. I’ve been worried sick about you, and I’ve missed you.” To Leonard’s relief, Daniel sounded sincere.

“After supper?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

“All right. See you in a bit.” Leonard hung up the phone, wanting very badly not to mess things up again. He couldn’t bear to keep hurting people, and he didn’t honestly think he could bear to _be_ hurt any more. He went to search out Will, and found him working on Sunday’s sermon.

“I’m going to pay a visit to Daniel tonight. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I might be back very soon, or - would it upset you if I didn’t come back until tomorrow morning? I don’t know how things will go, but I expect they will go, one way or the other, and..I’m scared,” he admitted.

Will motioned for him to sit, and brought out a bottle of whiskey that had been Sidney’s, and glasses. He poured two stiff shots and handed one to Leonard.

“A little Dutch courage,” he smiled. “If you do come back early, I’ll be here if you want to talk. And if you don’t come back tonight, I’ll be happy for you and Daniel. You might want to be back by half eight tomorrow though, before Mrs C gets here.”

“Thanks.” Leonard’s thin shoulders dropped in relief, and he downed the whiskey in one gulp, followed by a cough.

Will grinned. “You want another?”

“No, thanks. If I do, it might stop me from saying all I need to say.”

“Leonard - whatever problems the two of you have, I sense that Daniel cares about you very much. This hasn’t been easy on him either.”

“I know,” Leonard sighed. “I haven’t been at all fair to him, I’ve been quite selfish.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s difficult not to be reactive when your very self is under attack. Go, and don’t worry about things here.”

Leonard flushed, remembering his tirade about always being the one to keep appearances all together, and not being able to count on Will.

“Thank you.”

It helped knowing there was at least one person at his back as far as his relationship with Daniel. He and Will had had a rocky start, neither realizing the other had private pain to work through and overcome. Knowing what he did now about the death of Will’s father, Leonard no longer resented the punch Will had given him. He knew he could certainly be supercilious and self-righteous as well as selfish. It was part of the wall he put up against fear of his own inadequacy, but Will hadn’t known that. Sidney had laughed at him over such behaviour, sometimes scornfully. Will hadn’t laughed, and had been ready to listen without judging. That was the thing about Sidney - he could be both kind and non-judgmental and at times very judgmental indeed, and you could never be sure which it would be. Will’s demons made him kinder, Sidney’s, less so.

Leonard changed out of his suit and and put on a shirt with a blue jumper. Part of him thought he should bring something with him as a peace offering, and the other part was at a loss as to what it could be, except himself..if Daniel still wanted him. He dug his nails into his palm; that was not the way to be thinking.

As the sun slipped below the horizon, he grabbed a torch and stuck it in his pocket. He wouldn’t need it on the way over, but if he had to come home tonight, he would. He went out the rear door and made his usual way over the densely wooded lane behind the vicarage, to the narrow grass path that would take him close to the cottage. His heart was thundering in his ears and he felt a bit woozy. No. No, he could not, _would_ not succumb to his nerves tonight. He mentally shook himself as he walked, trying to think about what he wanted to say and do.

A light was on in the living room. He shivered as he knocked softly. In a moment, the door opened and he was ushered inside.

They stood awkwardly for a moment or two, then Daniel simply opened his arms and Leonard went into them, desperate to feel the familiar warmth surrounding him. They held tightly to each other, neither moving nor speaking. Finally, Leonard smiled timidly.

“I’m going to say things tonight, tell you things I should have told you before now. It’s been wrong of me not to, but I haven’t wanted to talk about myself, and about us. I’ve been afraid to. I feel like it’s all going to come pouring out once I start.”

“I’m here, and I’m listening,” Daniel encouraged, leading him to the sofa in front of the fire. Leonard’s hands were like ice.

“Would you like a glass of port?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks.” Leonard nodded. He took a swallow and then put it on the table. He gazed sadly at Daniel.

“I’m so sorry. None of this has been your fault, and in my own unhappiness I’ve not thought enough about your feelings. I’ve only considered our relationship in terms of myself. That’s wrong and selfish, and it’s not the way two people should be together. It should be about both of us,” Leonard sighed.

Daniel sat down beside him, taking his hand and kissing it, rubbing his knuckles gently, encouraging him to go on. Leonard’s words so far were heartening. Daniel had been losing hope for weeks that there even was a relationship between them any more in the way he’d once hoped there would be. Leonard’s reaction to Mrs C’s condemnation and their subsequent argument about it had been the capper.

“I haven’t told you much of anything about my past - my childhood or my family. I thought no one else had a reason to know. But if you of all people don’t know, how can I ever expect you to understand how I came to be the mess I am.” A small, self-deprecating smile aimed to diminish the bleakness of the words.

“I was an only child. My mum died when I was seven. My dad did his best, I expect, but it was hard on him - hard on both of us - with her gone. I didn’t have any cousins, aunts or uncles around either; no playmates. My dad wanted a hardy, sports-loving boy who could help in the shop, lifting, carrying, that sort of thing. He was expecting a chip off the old block, a son who saw life through his eyes, liked the things he liked,” Leonard explained. “But that wasn’t me. I was thin and reedy and always sick with one thing and another. I didn’t like to play at sports because I wasn’t good at them. I was as uncoordinated and gawky as I am today,” he sighed. “I was always reading, off in other worlds. Not like him at all. I knew what he wanted, and at first I tried, but I couldn’t be that person.

“Nothing I did was ever right, or good enough to suit him. This was from early on, well before I knew I was different in other ways,” he sighed. “I’m not telling you this to have you feel sorry for me, Daniel. Many children have much worse, more abusive childhoods than I did. But growing up like that causes you to want things, to need things in your life that perhaps others don’t need as much,” Leonard added apologetically. Daniel leaned over to stroke his cheek. The touch gave him courage.

“When I got older, I thought something must be very wrong with me because I had no interest in the girls the other boys were suddenly paying attention to. I never thought of those girls..that way, the way I knew the others did. I only thought about the boys, and I knew that was wrong, and crazy - and a sin besides. My father used to accuse me of being a pansy, a nancy boy. But to him it was just accusations because I was so bookish, something to say to vent his frustration that I wasn’t his perfect son, until one day he just - I don’t know how or why it was different, but he _knew_.” 

Leonard shuddered. Daniel put an arm about him and drew him closer.

“He got his belt and beat me then, and so many times after that, with whatever was to hand. I knew I had to get away, to make my own life somehow, but as you know, I’ll never be someone who plunges into the unknown, so running away didn’t enter my head. I’m not the self-sufficient type,” Leonard derided himself.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Daniel murmured, pressing his lips to Leonard’s forehead. He hadn’t had a disapproving father to contend with, only a loving mother and sister. The realization that not all queer men had been as fortunate, that many had troubled lives, hit him sharply. If he hadn’t known any of this about Leonard, he should have cared enough to ask, even to press, but he hadn’t.

“I was always good at school. The one thing I excelled at, my father didn’t value. I determined to get a scholarship, and I did. I could leave home and do something for others with my life. I knew I wanted to help people - I’d always known that. One of my advisors suggested going about it through the Church, but I really wanted to teach, so I did at first. But that situation - the school, the girls, the atmosphere - it wasn’t a good fit. I have told you that much before. I was so painfully shy and naïve, often the butt of thoughtless jokes. After a time I couldn’t imagine ever being happy there. I thought more about the Church, and I liked the idea. If I didn’t have a mother, or a father who loved me, I thought God would still love me. I was so immature and inexperienced. If I’d only understood more of the world then!

“I still want God to love me, Daniel. I can’t just tell myself He doesn’t matter. He’ll always matter to me. I’m sorry,” Leonard sighed.

“No need to be sorry for needing and wanting love, sweetheart, in any form,” Daniel murmured against his temple. “It is after all the most important thing in our lives, or it should be - including mine. I do love you, Leonard, but..you haven’t seemed ready to hear it or feel it, so I haven’t said it. I was afraid of what I’d hear in return,” he admitted. “Or rather, what I wouldn’t hear.”

Leonard pressed his face hard into Daniel’s shoulder. “I love you, even if I haven’t behaved like it. I don’t want to lose you - I never have.”

“It’s all right,” Daniel murmured, his hand at the nape of Leonard’s neck, stroking lightly.

“Sidney, Mrs C and God were the family I thought I’d never have. I felt secure with them, cared about. So when Mrs C saw us and reacted the way she did, I panicked. Sidney was gone, and now she was gone too because of what I am. And God didn’t seem to be weighing in on the conversation telling me it was going to be all right.

“I’d felt safe long enough that I didn’t want to have to go through the misery of not belonging again. It made me afraid, and angry. Angry at myself, and angry at you for telling me it didn’t matter. I was afraid of losing the only security I’d ever had, as well as my life in the Church, and I didn’t stop to think about you. I was afraid to believe you might love me and I’ve been afraid to let go and love you, because that would mean I really am what I’ve only been playing at,” Leonard admitted.

“It wasn’t fair of me. How could you know me, understand me, if I never shared myself with you? I’m starting to see that the love I thought was there all along from others perhaps never has been in the way I wanted to believe it was, while the love I mistrusted and sometimes doubted is the truest. I’m sorry.”

Leonard, at least partly wound down now, relaxed a little against Daniel.

“Thank you for telling me all this. I know it isn’t easy,” Daniel soothed, stroking his hair. He ached at the pain, sorrow and fear that had come tumbling out of Leonard, and the bitterness too. He liked to think he had controlled his own bitterness such that it rarely showed itself any longer, but Leonard’s self-doubt and self-loathing had brought it back to him.

“I’m sorry I behaved as if I might not want to listen more, or see more. I took your feelings too lightly - that’s a bad habit of mine, bred from so many years of others dismissing my feelings; I pretend nothing really matters all that much. I should have listened and tried to help based on your needs, not on my glib solutions. I didn’t want to deal with your insecurity as well as my own, so I made too little of it. That was wrong, and I’ll try not to do it again,” Daniel promised.

“I’ve been jealous of your faith when I never should have been,” he admitted. “Because that faith made you the man I fell in love with. It kept you whole, and sane. It’s the trusting sweetness in you that I treasure. Without it, you wouldn’t be my Leonard.”

“Am I then, still?” The question was hardly more than a whisper.

“Of course you are,” he smiled, tipping Leonard’s head up to kiss him on the lips. To his surprise, Leonard not only returned the kiss but deepened it. When they parted some minutes later, Leonard made a soft, contented sound. He looked into Daniel’s eyes for a moment, then reached for his glass and finished the port.

“I’ve also been thinking about what loving someone should mean. What it should mean to..m-married couples,” he stammered determinedly. “A part of me has believed that if we didn’t do certain things, or if I didn’t let myself totally enjoy what we did do, then maybe it wasn’t - _I_ wasn’t - as bad in God’s eyes,” he confessed softly. “I’ve been afraid to feel, because I knew that if I did I’d truly be that despised person who _wants_ to do everything that men do with each other, who enjoys all the sinful things. I’m going to be clumsy and awkward and ignorant, but I want everything with you. I really do. Without consulting God,” he finished.

Daniel gaze back at him in shock for so long that Leonard’s heart sank and he wondered if he’d bolluxed things up again.

Daniel?” he ventured. Then he saw the tear tracks down Daniel’s cheeks, saw his composure break as he began to cry, quiet tears he made no attempt to stop. Leonard’s arms went round him, hugging him close. That Daniel might actually need him and love him that much, he’d never seen until now.

“Sorry,” Daniel muttered, sniffing hard, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand, “I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what it was. I mostly thought that you just weren’t that attracted to me,” he sighed. “I really want it too,” he smiled through his tears, echoing Leonard.

“I wanted you - I want you,” Leonard smiled shyly. “I’m very attracted to you. More than I wanted you to know, before. More than I wanted to be. But I’m done with pretending, when we’re alone.” He pressed a kiss to Daniel’s hair. “I love you.” Daniel stifled a sob and hugged him, hard.

They talked, and consumed more port than Leonard was used to, but he wasn’t worried about anything tonight. He didn’t have to go back to the vicarage, he and Daniel could spend the whole night together being as tearful, as silly or as loving as they wanted to be with each other without thinking of anyone or anything else.

“I told Will I wasn’t sure whether I’d be here very long at all or whether I wouldn’t come back tonight. He said if I stayed, he’d be happy for us,” Leonard volunteered, some of his usual inhibition dulled by the port and a bout of gentle snogging.

“It’s nice to know we have a friend,” Daniel responded. “I mean that - it _is_ nice.”

“Would - would you be all right with me spending more evenings here - that is, all night?” Leonard asked cautiously. The look on Daniel’s face was as if he’d just been given the best Christmas and birthday presents ever, all in one.

“It would be so much more than all right, you can’t imagine,” Daniel agreed. “But how will you - ?”

“Mrs C is only at the vicarage from about half past eight in the morning to half past five in the afternoon most days. So what happens outside that time, there’s no reason she should know, unless the town gossips start in. I’ll just have to be very careful. And it can’t be if Will’s away because one of us always needs to be there. And I have to ask Will,” Leonard added in a rush.

Daniel hated to do it, but felt he needed to inject a small dose of possible reality.

“And what will happen,” he asked gently, “if Mrs C does find out, or the town gossips? What if someone tells the archdeacon - or if Will doesn’t want to risk his own vocation? There is a limit to what we can expect our friends to do for us.”

Leonard regarded him seriously. “This is my last effort to hold my old life together. I hope it works, I really do. But if any of those things happen, well - we can go somewhere else if we must. A larger town, or a city where no one knows us. And if God no longer wants me in His service - “

Daniel could hardly believe his ears. Leonard had actually considered what he’d suggested, and acknowledged it as possible. He hadn’t honestly thought he meant that much to Leonard, and to know that he did filled Daniel with happiness. Yet loving Leonard as he did he felt no victory, and was eager to compromise.

“Leonard, don’t give up on God just yet,” he cautioned. “Have you ever considered that it’s not that God himself doesn’t love you, that’s only the Church’s belief. I think Sidney and Will believe that sometimes the Church fathers get it wrong. The Archbishops aren’t God, they’re not infallible. They can only guess at what God thinks and wants, the same as any ordinary man,” Daniel suggested. “Your relationship with God and your feelings about Him are between the two of you, not between God, the Church, and you. If the Church won’t accept us as we are, that needn’t mean that God himself doesn’t accept us. You can serve God in different ways, helping others in the way that suits you and those you would serve best. It doesn’t haveto be within the confines of a vicarage. Maybe you could help boys like we were, afraid, full of self-loathing, and alone. That would be truly serving God, the way I see it.”

Leonard gave him a smile at that.

“I know Sidney had a relationship with God that I didn’t always understand. I just felt he must have a stronger calling than me, or a different sort of one,” he sighed.

“The difference is confidence in yourself, in who you are, and confidence in what you believe. There is _nothing_ wrong with you. You’re a good man and a caring vicar. You only need to believe that. And you already have me. Whatever happens, we’re in this together. I need _you_ in my life Leonard, not just any man. _You_ make me happy,” he emphasized.

“You’ve never said that before.” Leonard’s eyes were large in his face. “I haven’t been sure if - “

“Yes,” Daniel smiled, pulling Leonard into his arms. “Oh sweetheart yes, you do make me happy. Very,” he added. He took Leonard’s face in his hands and brought his lips down hard on the waiting mouth - something he would not have done before this evening’s conversation for fear of driving him away. Leonard returned the kiss with equal intensity, earnest and open.

When they broke apart to breathe, Leonard’s eyes were shining. “I’ve been so horribly unfair to you. You wanted to give me _this,_ and I refused it.”

“You’re here now, my love,” Daniel soothed, “and not horrible at all, don’t say that. Only afraid, and every man has his fears. Just don’t go away again. I won’t ask for anything more, I promise.”

“Not going away,” Leonard agreed, leaning in for another kiss. He allowed his desire to build instead of stamping on it as he’d always done. It was a lovely, exciting feeling.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Daniel murmured some time later. They were dreamy, disheveled, and drunk on kisses. Leonard mutely nodded his assent with a smile and they rose and took their glasses into the kitchen and turned out the lights.

When they entered the bedroom Daniel turned on a bedside lamp, closed the curtains and turned the covers down, shutting out the eyes of the world and cocooning them together.

“Shall I turn the light off?” he asked. Leonard had always been shy and embarrassed when it came to revealing himself. Daniel had thought more than once that if Leonard could have sex buttoned down and fully clothed, he would.

“No. But I don’t - I’m going to make a fool of myself, Daniel,” he responded helplessly.

“You are not,” Daniel shook his head with a smile. “There’s no one to judge us. I intend to take my time exploring every inch of you. The thought of you truly all here with me at last excites me, Leonard. I _want_ you,” he breathed, reaching out to pull the blue jumper off over Leonard’s head.

Leonard shivered, willing himself not to flinch or look away as Daniel began to unbutton his shirt. He gasped at the heat of Daniel’s hands when they slid beneath his vest. He was shy, and slightly embarrassed. He knew he was no impressive specimen physically. Yet he could also feel himself stiffening at Daniel’s words and voice as well as his touch. To be told he was actually capable of arousing desire in someone meant a great deal to him.

His trousers came next, with Daniel discovering his budding erection, applying just enough pressure through his y-fronts to elicit a moan before they were removed and his arousal was evident. Daniel pushed him back onto the bed, staring openly, smiling.

“Who knew curates were so sexy,” he teased. He ran his hands possessively over Leonard’s body for a bit, unhurried. He teased dark, pebbled nipples lightly with his fingertips and then leaned forward to take one in his mouth. Leonard gasped and squirmed, but made no move to pull away. His breathing was becoming louder.

Daniel took him in hand, and he dared to look down at that hand, stroking him. A shiver coursed through him, and he allowed himself to vocalize his pleasure - pleasure at what Daniel was doing of course, but also acknowledgement of his own desire and his right to that desire. He was also discovering that he wanted to please Daniel too, very much. He wanted, at last, the mutual physicality of two consenting adults - not only wanted, but craved it.

“You still have all your clothes on,” he pointed out.

“Yes. Were you thinking of doing something about that?” Daniel grinned, gently nudging.

Leonard’s removal of Daniel’s clothes was quick and determined, almost frantic, until he could survey Daniel as his lover had looked at him. The words actually came into his consciousness - _my lover. I have a lover. I am a lover._

“You are..wonderful,” he murmured, taking Daniel in from head to toe without looking away, without pretending he didn’t see. He was all golden fair, his body slim but well-defined - and he was hard. For him.

Leonard mimicked what Daniel had done with him, pleased and also aroused by Daniel’s enthusiastic response. There were soft gasps, hitches of breath, shivers. There were cool lips, and fingertips in warm places. Sighs and kisses intermingled with soft cries and grunts of pleasure.

“Ahhhh.”

“Liked that, did you?”

“Yesss.”

“Shall I do it again?”

“Yes! Just like tha— ohh!”

“Here?”

“No..just a little..where you were.. _there._ Yes, _there. **That.**_ Oh Daniel. Daniel.”

They had both been denying their deeper feelings for each other. Now, those deeper feelings could be expressed physically. For Daniel it was Leonard touching and kissing him with intimate affection, wanting to please him; truly enjoying being with him unashamed - _loving_ him, not merely using him for release. For Leonard it was feeling free to do the things that meant love to him - kissing, stroking, touching, cuddling. He was happier than he ever remembered being. It was so different than the quick, half-shamed fumbles he had tried to convince himself that sex between men was. He had gone through the motions, had felt the quick, sharp physical pleasure, but had denied the _connection_ between them - the love.

They took their time because they could, and the slow build-up heightened sensation for Leonard, driving him to take a more active role than he ever had. For the first time in his life, Leonard felt sexed and sexy, and he was enjoying it. When Daniel groaned beneath him and came, he felt powerful. His own climax was not far behind. Neither afraid nor ashamed, he let it take him completely and reveled in the physical sensations he no longer felt compelled to repress.

Afterward, they lay quietly together. Leonard’s relaxed weight over him, warm, solid and entirely present, made Daniel happy. When he shifted slightly, deliberately, so that their genitals touched, rather than shy away from the contact Leonard relaxed and increased it with a groan of pleasure. Their bodies felt good together, but also finally felt _right_ , and most important of all, natural.

***

Daniel woke to the smell of rain, and the pelt of it against the window. The faintest hints of dawn were evident. It wasn’t the rain that had wakened him though. Leonard’s hand caressed between his legs, a bit awkward but with purpose. How marvelous, he thought, that he could let his pleasure build as it would and not feel the shame Leonard had brought to bed with him before - when they’d taken long enough to make it to the bed. How lovely it was to close his eyes and give himself up to it.

He didn’t want to give himself away just yet for fear of making Leonard self-conscious, but he couldn’t stop from reaching out to caress his lover’s curls. He loved that only he got to see and feel those curls, unrestrained from Leonard’s typical plastered vicar’s look. One day, he hoped to talk him out of doing that.

“Am I - is it all right?”

“Of course it is. It’s lovely. Carry on,” he urged. He groaned and sighed, letting Leonard hear the pleasure he was giving, hoping there could be no better encouragement, and Leonard might gradually learn what pleased him and what was too much, not enough, or not quite in the right spot.

“Come here,” Daniel invited after several minutes, “and kiss me good morning.” They shared a few soft kisses until Leonard began to deepen them, his tongue seeking entry and being welcomed. As the increasingly hungry kisses stirred both of them, Leonard rocked and thrust against Daniel and he reciprocated. Leonard was happy to let Daniel kiss and caress him, even in places that would have had him crimson with shame a month ago. It all just felt too good. Before daylight, he was drunk on Daniel’s touch and Daniel’s mouth.

They kissed and stroked and rubbed against each other in ever more confident intimacy.The feel of Leonard’s damp body melding with his in desire, cock hard against his belly, and Leonard’s grunts of honest lust sucked Daniel into a sweet release.

“My God,” he laughed softly, his fingers loosely toying with Leonard’s disheveled hair. “That was brilliant. Just brilliant,” he sighed.

Leonard had suffered so much and come so far in their relationship, Daniel wanted to give him a gift, something he hadn’t experienced before. He rolled Leonard onto his back, and took him in his mouth.

Leonard groaned in surprise, letting the pleasure flow into both body and mind. It was so _good,_ so perfect. Why had he ever refused to let Daniel in to really love him, and to love Daniel in return? He’d been a perfect fool, but no more. The waves of pleasure-tension buffeted him, and he gave himself up to Daniel - _his_ Daniel, his lover. His love. When he could hold back no longer, Daniel drank of him, sucked him dry with love shining in his eyes.

Silent now, sated and exhausted, they curled in each other’s arms, happy in the connection neither could bear to let go of now. Leonard drifted off to asleep, while Daniel daydreamed of a future of many such mornings stretching before them.

****

“Len. Len! It’s gone seven o’clock. You need to be on your way soon.”

He was too comfortable, settled into Daniel’s warmth, and too happy, to be motivated to leave either the bed or Daniel’s side.

“Never want to move again,” he muttered, snuggling selfishly. It made Daniel’s heart turn over. He dropped soft kisses on Leonard’s face and hair.

“I know. Me neither. But this is the way it’ll have to be, you know. We must take what we can and still be careful. So best to start out as we mean to go on, hm?” Daniel coaxed. Leonard sighed.

“Yes,” he agreed reluctantly. “Mustn’t tempt Fate, or be ungrateful I suppose.” He got up then, planting another good morning kiss on Daniel’s lips, and went to wash himself. When he came back to dress, Daniel fussed over him a bit, straightening his collar, smoothing the jumper.

“In future I expect I’ll manage tea before you go, and not send you out into the cold and wet with nothing inside you.”

“No, not nothing. Having you is very much something,” Leonard returned. “It’s much more than I’ve ever had before. It’ll keep me warm all day.”

They kissed before they headed downstairs, and stood inside the door and kissed again before Leonard reluctantly slipped out and with a quick glance round, headed for the vicarage.

How strange that after all the new and intense physical experiences and open emotion between him and Daniel, it was his heart that was full, and his mind that was at peace. His body, of course, was still singing. He began to hum as he walked the path.


End file.
